


Aftermath

by rinthegreat



Series: Eternal Verse [2]
Category: Free!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Feelings, Friendship, Haru the art student, I stole characters from Haikyuu again, M/M, Post-Eternally Sequel, Slow Build to SouHaru, Sousuke - injury recovery
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-17
Updated: 2016-12-09
Packaged: 2018-05-02 02:12:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 18,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5229923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rinthegreat/pseuds/rinthegreat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Entering college in Tokyo opens a whole new host of problems for the recent graduates of Iwatobi and Samezuka.  Rin struggles to maintain his relationship with Makoto, even as he aims on transferring to a school in Australia.  Sousuke tries to make new friends outside of swimming. And Haru's left wondering if art school was really the best idea.</p><p>Sequel to Eternally. - ON HIATUS (5/8/2017)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> My summary sucks. This is the SouHaru sequel to Eternally. I lied before you should read Eternally first.

            Through some miracle, Makoto doesn’t dump him after their first real date.  Or their second.  Or even third.  In fact, they’ve had enough real dates and almost dates at this point that Rin’s lost count.  And even through all that, Makoto hasn’t dumped him.  It’s a goddamn miracle is what it is.

            “I get it, Rin.  It’s a miracle.  He’s an angel, a saint, a god…”

            “Shut up, Sousuke I didn’t say it that way.”  Rin throws the pillow off the other’s bed at his new-old roommate.

            Sousuke catches it deftly, not even wincing despite using his bad shoulder.  “I just unpacked that.  You should show more respect to the pillow.”

            “You know, people are always coming up to me saying _oh that Sousuke is so quiet and reserved, I have no idea how you get along with him_.  It’s a damn lie.  You put up fronts to other people so they think you’re some kind of mountain dwelling thing.”

            His roommate snorts.  “Mountain dwelling thing?”

            “Yes, shut up, that’s not the point.  The _point_ is –“

            There’s a knock on the door, and Makoto pokes his head inside.  “I’m not interrupting anything, am I?”

            Rin jumps up from where he was lounging on Sousuke’s bed.  “No, we’re just unpacking.”

            “Don’t you mean Sousuke’s unpacking?”  Makoto asks, mirth in his eyes as he steps into the room.

            Sousuke chuckles.  “Actually what he means is that I’m unpacking, and he’s throwing my bedding around.”

            “Shut up,” Rin shoots back at him before bounding to his boyfriend (and god, but he can’t believe he gets to call him that).  “You and Haru all moved in?”

            They’d all four ended up in Tokyo together, another miracle for Rin’s mental record.  Makoto and Haru weren’t going to the same university, but they were close enough together that they’d decided to get a 2 bedroom rather than separate apartments.  There had been a bit of panic on Rin’s end when he was afraid Sousuke would still be mad enough at him to not want to room together.  But the other had broached the subject first, asking Rin first if he’d want to room together again the next year, and just like that things had gone back to normal between the two of them.

            “Yeah.  He wanted some extra time in the bath though, so I thought I’d come over and check in on you guys.”

            Sousuke tosses his pillow across the room onto his bed.  Various reasons (guilt mostly) led to him getting the bottom bunk this time around.  “We’re almost done packing.  Rin just needs to make his bed.”

            “You haven’t made your bed yet?”  Makoto asks him, voice somewhere between amused and chastising.

            Rin blushes.  He knows Sousuke’s over him (or so he claims) but he wishes the other wasn’t around for moments like this.  “I was hoping I could actually stay at your place tonight…”  He mutters, staring at the floor near Makoto’s feet rather than at the brunette himself.

            “Oh,” Makoto responds, his voice giving away the blush on his own cheeks.  Rin loves that Makoto has a voice that tells him when the backstroker is blushing.  He loves a lot of things about Makoto actually, though he hasn’t gotten around to actually telling him about it yet.  He’ll get around to it.  Eventually.

            “Don’t you have class tomorrow?”

            Rin finally looks up, stealing a glance back at Sousuke to make sure the other isn’t paying attention.  Well, at least he’s not looking.  That’s something.  “I don’t have morning practice though.  And I can take the train to get to my first class.”

            “Rin…”  It’s the _no, this is for your own good_ voice that Makoto uses for his rejections, and Rin has to stop him somehow.

            “We’ll just sleep.”  It’s a lie, and they both know it.  “Nothing big at least.  Come on, Makoto.  It’s been ages since we’ve been together, just the two of us.”

            There’s a slam, and Sousuke’s backing away towards the door.  “And that’s my queue to leave.”

            “Ah, wait, Sousuke…”  Makoto protests weakly, but the other just shrugs on his jacket and shoes and slips outside, closing the door with less of a slam than the drawer from earlier.  “Rin, you should really be more considerate of him…”

            Suddenly in a bad mood Rin turns away.  “Whatever.”

            “Rin…”

            “We haven’t seen each other since _graduation_ , Makoto.  You barely even texted me back.”  What he doesn’t say is that he was so sure the other was done with him.  That there was a week where Makoto didn’t respond at all, and Rin had been convinced that he’d already been dumped and didn’t even know it.  He’d been miserable to be around according to Gou, and he’d actually cried from relief when the other texted him asking if he’d want to go on one more Iwatobi date before they moved to Tokyo and had all their dates there.  They hadn’t been able to make that date work, but the knowledge of _more_ had been enough to keep Rin’s spirits up until, well, now.

            Makoto at least has the decency to look apologetic.  “I know, Rin.  My whole family was there.  I even had a cousin fly in from Hokkaido I had to entertain.  I wanted to see you so much.”  The other steps forward and takes Rin’s hand.  “I’m here now, Rin.  Forgive me?”

            It’s unfair really, how much Makoto can get away with in Rin’s eyes.  If some guy had done this to Gou, he would’ve told her to dump him, no matter the reason.  Course if she’d been sleeping with some guy who was in love with someone else, Rin probably would’ve killed him.  He would’ve killed him, even if he’d been in love with Gou, actually…  He shakes himself back to reality.  “Course I forgive you,” he reassures the other.  “I’ll always forgive you.”

            Makoto nudges him.  “And you say _I’m_ the saint.”

            Rin blushes.  “How much did you hear?”

            “Not that much,” Makoto consoles, “besides, you call me a saint to my face at least once a week.”

            “A date then?”  Rin asks, leaning forward for a kiss.  “Just the two of us?”

            “A date,” Makoto promises, closing the distance between them.

* * *

 

            Sousuke heads immediately down to the gym after leaving the room.  He thanks his past self for having the foresight to leave a bag with his clothes in his locker.  Rin is the one person he doesn’t want to lose in his life, and it took him months to accept that they would only ever be friends.  Usually, it’s not too hard.  They’ve never been anything more than friends, so there’s nothing _new_ he needs to adjust to.  But for Rin to choose Makoto…they’d become friendly in the months following nationals, but Sousuke still doesn’t think he’s good enough for Rin.  No one’s good enough for Rin, but especially not someone who’s already broken his heart once.

            Listening to the redhead wax poetic about his boyfriend is something he can handle, most of the time at least.  It’s amusing more than anything.  But seeing it in person is still…too much.  It takes more than a few months to get over someone you’ve been in love with for most of your life, after all.

            He changes quickly, slamming his locker shut, before heading to the gym.  His shoulders are mostly healed at this point.  All that’s left are a few more physical therapy appointment checkups and the promise he made to do his exercises every day for the entirety of the next swimming season.

            The gym is half filled with people, some wearing shirts designating their sports teams, and others looking like they’re just students trying to stay in shape before the school year starts.  It’s admirable.  The intro to one of his textbooks mentioned getting into a regular routine that will match your schedule before the school year starts so you can maintain your health and fitness easier.  He wonders how many of the students here had read the same paragraph.  He wonders how many have even glanced at their textbooks yet.

            He calms down towards the end of his workout, when he’s running on the indoor track.  Rin, as he’s reminded himself thousands of times, is a grown man.  He can make his own decisions on who to date…and who to not date.  It’s probably better this way, if he’s honest.  Who knows if they would’ve worked out anyway.  Besides, it’s fairly obvious Rin’s in love with Makoto, even if he refuses to say the word out loud.

            Sousuke showers in the gym and changes back into his normal clothes.  He knocks before entering his room, having learned the first time.  No one’s home and Sousuke’s bed remains unchanged from when he left it.  He doesn’t think they’re actually rude enough to have sex in his bed (or whatever it is they do; Rin mentioned in passing once that they hadn’t gone all the way yet), but he wouldn’t really put it past them.

            They’re in the athlete dorms, which means they have a communal kitchen.  Having lived off cafeteria food all last year at Samezuka and all throughout his time in Tokyo, the kitchen is a nice change.  He grabs his wallet and heads out to find a grocery store near them.  Rin’s out on a date, so he really only needs food for one, though he can find some washable containers and label them for leftovers.

            He’s so deep in plans for food when he turns into the grocery that he runs into someone else trying to get out the door.  “Oh, sorry,” he mutters looking up.  Blue eyes widen back at him.  “Nanase?”

            “Yamazaki.”

            Someone behind him clears his throat.  He apologizes and steps to the side, letting them in as well.  Nanase looks like he wants to leave, bag in hand, but he stands there as if waiting for something.  It would be rude to walk away, even if they aren’t really friends.  “How are you?”  He asks instead, overly polite.

            “Fine.”  Nanase’s fingers tighten around the straps, but he still doesn’t step away.

            Sousuke remembers Rin talking about taking the train from their place, so it can’t be all that close.  “What are you doing here?”  He asks, far less polite this time.

            The other mutters something Sousuke doesn’t catch.  “What?”

            “Mackerel,” Nanase repeats, louder this time.

            Oh.  He vaguely remembered Rin and Makoto talking once about him being obsessed with the fish.  “Don’t they have mackerel closer to you?”

            “No.”

            The thought suddenly occurs to Sousuke that Nanase might be waiting for an apology.  He never apologized for threatening him…twice.  Nanase might not be the one dating Rin, but Sousuke’s sure the redhead wouldn’t forgive him easily if he knew about their past.  Besides, Rin finally seems to have broken through that wall in his swimming career.  Really, he’d been worried over nothing.  “Sorry,” he grumbles finally.

            “What?”

            “Sorry.”

            Nanase looks away, but doesn’t ask what it means.  “It’s fine.”  And Sousuke knows that they’re on the same page.

            “Rin probably already offered, but if you want to use the pool…”  He lets the sentence trail off knowing it doesn’t need to be finished.  The other’s eyes are wide in disbelief, almost sparkling.  He looks away, rubbing the back of his neck.  It’s not much in the way of an apology, but apparently it’s enough for Nanase.  “Well, see ya.”

            All in all, probably one of his more awkward grocery encounters, but Sousuke finds some food that can be made into several different meals and containers he and Rin can label.  Rin still isn’t back by the time he gets back to the dorm, so he busies himself making dinner.  Some other athletes come and go, using the stove alongside him.  He’s not good enough at socializing with strangers without Rin though, so he doesn’t do much more than nod at them when they greet him.  He’s ok that Rin’s dating someone else, really he is.  It’s just at times like this that Sousuke really misses him.

* * *

 

            Makoto is still gone on his date with Rin by the time Haru gets home.  All the better for him.  He breaks out his grill to cook up some mackerel.  He’d needed to stock up, though running into Yamazaki was admittedly unexpected.  As was the unspoken apology and offer that followed it.

            Haru glares down at his fish before slicing the head neatly off.  Makoto and Rin are his best friends, really he should’ve expected them to end up together.  Except that he never saw it coming.  He doesn’t think anyone did, even Rin and Makoto.

            It doesn’t matter though, Haru reminds himself, looking over at his pile of art supplies he’ll need to take with him for his first day.  Plan B, Amakata-sensei had called it, and he’s come to terms with attending art school.  He likes art.  He likes cooking too.  But neither of them are swimming.

            He’d talked to the coach of Rin’s university at the end of nationals.  The coach had told him that his freestyle form and speed were good enough to land him in a school, but that his display at regionals had been enough to cut him off many potential rosters.  The coach had advised him to take a year and think about it before giving him his business card.  Haru still keeps it in his wallet.  Just in case Plan B doesn’t work out for him.

            The problem is that he loves swimming.  He loves the water.  But he doesn’t know if he loves swimming enough to be like Rin.  And really, if he ever wants to stand on the same stage as the redhead, then he should care more.  Rin deserves to have a rival who cares at least as much as he does.

            He’s seasoning the fish when there’s a click of the lock and Makoto and Rin come tumbling in, laughing over something.  Rin’s arm is thrown lazily over Makoto’s shoulder, and the brunette’s is wrapped around his waist.  Haru quickly turns back to the fish reminding himself, once again, that he’s supposed to be happy that his best friends are both happy.

            “Haru!”  Rin declares, the only warning he gets before the redhead is draped around him.  Haru twitches but manages not to burn himself.  It’s a close thing.

            “I’m cooking, Rin.”  He looks down.  “Take off your shoes.  You’re Japanese.”

            He doesn’t have to look to know Rin’s sticking his tongue out at him.  “You are no fun.”  But he detaches himself and goes to remove his shoes.  Haru lets out a breath he doesn’t know he’s holding.

            “Sorry.”  Makoto is already there, cleaning up the counter where Haru had been preparing his meal.  “He’s excited to see you.”

            It’s a testament to how well they know each other that Haru can read the subtext in the sentence.  _Sorry that I brought him here, sorry I let him hug you when I know you’re not ready, sorry._   “It’s fine,” Haru assures him, even though it’s not.  “Just don’t let him burn himself.”

            Makoto chuckles lightly and pulls out a plate for Haru before stepping out of the kitchen to entertain Rin.  He can hear them talking in the main area for a few minutes before their voices fade down the hallway to Makoto’s room.  His knuckles whiten around the spatula as he flips his fish with a bit more force than necessary.  He shuts off the stove and tosses his fish onto a plate along with his rice, but he’s no longer hungry.

            For a minute he thinks about leaving his food there and going for a run until he’s calm again.  He knows they’re dating.  He knows what that means.  He’d known ahead of time about their date tonight, because Makoto asked him at least fifty times if it was ok to take Rin out even though they had just moved in, and if maybe, just maybe, it would be ok if they came back here after.

            Knowing and seeing are two different things.  He’d never had to be there for it before.  In a group setting they were always really good about going no further than hand holding.  He doesn’t really know what he was expecting, but after almost a month of not seeing Rin he hadn’t really expected it to be a ten second hug before Rin disappeared to sleep with Haru’s best friend.

            He grabs his plate and walks into their living area, sitting there to eat instead of disappearing on a run.  If Makoto came out to find Haru gone he’d just worry.  Then Rin would feel guilty and probably wouldn’t come back for months.

            He wishes there was a pool nearby or the ocean or somewhere with water bigger than a bathtub.  He should’ve taken Yamazaki up on his offer.  He still can; it wasn’t a closed deal.  He doesn’t have any way to contact him, though, and the person who knows is shut up in the next room, which is the whole reason for him feeling like this in the first place.

            Haru chomps down on his mackerel, finishing it and the rice in record time.  He cleans up his dishes and the pan, but Makoto and Rin still don’t emerge.  He racks his brain.  Who else would know Yamazaki’s contact info?  Rin and Makoto, of course, but he can’t ask them.  Nagisa?  No, Nagisa and Yamazaki were never close.  Rei?  No that was even more unlikely.  Gou?  Yes.  She had grown up with him and had probably stayed in touch.  Gou would have it.

            He knows his phone is somewhere in his room but regrets heading back for it as soon as soon as he goes back there.  Makoto and Rin haven’t emerged for a reason, and they are not being particularly quiet about it.  Haru blanches, slamming his door closed behind him.  His cheeks are red, and he feels too hot and too cold all at the same time.  It’s not quite enough to turn him on, but it’s not enough to make him break down into tears either.  Instead he just sits with his back against the door, trying to calm himself down and hoping that they didn’t hear him come in here.

            It takes him a minute or two to remember why he came in here in the first place, but when he does he welcomes the distraction.  He digs through his closet and swim bag first before he hears a buzzing and looks up to see his phone sitting on his nightstand.  Makoto must’ve put it there when he was helping Haru unpack earlier.

            He has 30 unread messages when he opens his phone, and his battery is down to 10%.  He hunts for the charger until a hunch leads him to find it already sitting next to the socket on the wall.  He plugs it in and starts to read.

            They’re all well wishes about moving in to Tokyo (apparently he hasn’t read it since they left) and starting his life as a university student.  Most of them are from Nagisa, asking for pictures of everything he’s seen in Tokyo and Haru’s art and a thousand other things.  Haru responds to him once saying that he moved in and promises to send a picture as soon as he draws something.  To Rei he laments that the closest grocer with decent mackerel is a subway ride away.  When he gets to Gou he replies asking for Yamazaki’s contact info.

            Messages read, he closes his phone and lets his head fall back against the wall behind him.  He hasn’t even been here a week, but already he misses Iwatobi.  He misses the beaches, the ocean, the quiet.  Already, he’s noticed the sound.  When he closes his eyes and just listens, he can hear the bustle of the people outside their apartment.  People talking loud enough he can hear their words through the open window.  Honking of car horns.  And under it all, the creaking of the bed next door and moans that might be Rin’s.

            Haru covers his ears.  He needs headphones.  The nice ones that he saw those Americans wearing at one of those international swim meets Rin made them watch on tv.  He doesn’t know what he’d listen to, but he’s sure he could find something.  Ocean sounds, whale noises.  Something.  Anything will do really.  It’s 7 pm, and it’s too early for sleep but there’s nothing else he can do around here.

            His phone buzzes.

            The first one is a text from Nagisa, chastising him for not responding to all of his questions.  Haru ignores it just as a second text comes in from Gou.  She doesn’t ask why, just sends him the information he needed and asks if all is well with her brother.  He thanks her and tells her that Rin looks healthy before saving Yamazaki as a contact.

            He thinks about waiting, but looks at the clock and sees it’s only been 5 minutes.  He reads his text once before sending it.

            Five more minutes pass with no response and Haru tosses his phone to the side, wishing that he’d at least brought in his art supplies so he could draw at least.  It’s his apartment too, he knows that, but he’s not ready to see them yet, and if he goes back into the hallway he might hear them again.  Instead he stares at the ceiling and counts all the bodies of water he’s ever fallen in love with until a buzzing brings him back to reality.

            To his relief, it’s a response from Yamazaki.  _Sure.  Whenever._

            That’s good enough for him.  Haru grabs his swim bag and books it out of his room.  He pauses at the kitchen just long enough to leave a note for Makoto telling him that he went out for a swim.  He hears his roommate’s door open, so he tugs on his shoes, grabs his key, and books it out of there as fast as he can.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> SouDai is my new BROTP

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In honor of SouHaru Week day 1, I present chapter 2! Unintentionally meets the day's prompt of firsts. AKA first time Haru texts Sousuke, first time Sousuke and Haru hang out along in a positive way, first time Haru uses the university pool, first day of classes, first swim practice of college....etc.

            Sousuke’s just finished his dinner when his phone buzzes.  He checks it, fully expecting it to be Rin saying that he is staying the night at Makoto’s after all, but he’s surprised to see an unknown address staring up at him.  He opens the mail, not sure what to expect, and his eyebrows raise at the words there.

            _I’ll take you up on the offer.  – Nanase_

            He has three guesses as to why the other is messaging him now, let alone how he got his contact info, and all of them are equally implausible.  Rin is involved somehow.  That much he knows.  They may not be friends, but Nanase is in somewhat the same boat as him, so Sousuke shoots off his affirmative and goes about cleaning up his dishes.

            Nanase hasn’t messaged him back ten minutes later, so Sousuke lays back on his bed and pulls out the sports medicine textbook he’s sure will become his – and likely Rin’s – bible.  It’s an interesting read, and already in the first chapter he’s learning about things he could’ve done differently to prevent injuring his shoulder in the first place, when his phone buzzes again.

            This time it’s a call rather than a message, and he doesn’t recognize the number, but he answers it anyway.  “Yamazaki here,” he responds, pushing down the memory of Rin laughing at his gruff manner of answering unknown calls.

            “I can’t find the school.”  He can tell from the tone on the other side that it’s Nanase, even when he doesn’t announce himself.

            Sousuke heaves a sigh and sets aside his book.  “Where are you?”  He asks, standing to put on his shoes.  He’s terrible with directions, gets lost all the time, and he’s even worse with _giving_ people directions, so he knows he’s going to have to go out there and find Nanase.  He just hopes the other is somewhere he knows.

            “Supermarket,” comes the reply, and Sousuke exhales in relief.  He knows how to get there at least.

            “Stay there,” he instructs.  “I’m coming.”

            There isn’t a response, and when Sousuke looks down at his phone, he finds that the other hung up on him.  His knuckles whiten around the device momentarily before he manages to calm himself.  Nanase is misplaced anger and aggression and childhood memories, but he needs to forget about all that if he’s going to play host to him.

            He grabs his backpack and shoves his book and notebook inside, feeling the familiar spike of longing when he looks at his jammers folded next to his clothes.  Not yet, he reminds himself, zipping his bag and heading out the door.  Not yet.

            Nanase’s standing just to the side of the supermarket entrance, looking about as awkward as Sousuke feels.  He’s glancing around himself occasionally but hasn’t seemed to spot Sousuke yet.  He doesn’t raise his hand or greet him or anything, instead stops just short of the other.

            If Nanase’s surprised to see his silent approach, he doesn’t say anything.  Instead he adjusts his bag over his shoulder and nods to the other as if to say _alright then, let’s get this over with_.

            Nanase doesn’t walk next to him, doesn’t make any attempt at conversation, nothing.  He walks directly behind him, letting Sousuke lead him all the way to the university’s athletic center.  Sousuke sucks in a deep breath as soon as they enter the natatorium.  The scent of chlorine has always been simultaneously calming and a rush to his adrenaline for him, even with his injured shoulder.

            There’s a dull thunk as Nanase’s bag hits the ground, and Sousuke glances over at him.  At least he didn’t drop it right in front of the door.  The shorter swimmer is already stripping down, tossing his clothes carelessly behind himself.  Sousuke’s not even surprised to see him wearing his jammers under his clothes, just like Rin mentioned he would.

            He waits, outwardly calm, as the other gets the last of his clothes off and snaps on his goggles before diving into the pool.  Sousuke shakes his head and makes his way over to the bleachers.  No one else is using the pool at the moment; it’s closed to everyone except members of the swim team looking for extra practice.  If he could have his way, he’d give Nanase the key and be done with it.  Course he can’t do that; swimmers are allowed to bring others in with them, but they have to stay as well.

            So instead he sits, butt cold on the bleachers, and pulls out his textbook again.  He grabs his pencil this time, using it to scratch notes in the margins.  He underlines passages he thinks would be helpful for swimmers in particular, though most of them are applicable to even the casual athlete, and pencils in questions specific to himself and Rin.

            It’s quiet in the natatorium aside from the sound of Nanase’s strokes and Sousuke’s pencil on paper.  It’s a soothing quiet, and even though his butt and back are starting to get sore from the hard surface, it’s a welcome change from the dorm room that already smells too much like Rin.

            He gets caught up in the rhythm of it all, the scratching of his pencil mixing with the soft splashes of Nanase’s strokes, that when the sound of swimming stops, he pauses his writing with a frown.  Sousuke looks up to see Nanase at the end of the pool, gazing at him curiously.  Suddenly self-conscious, he bookmarks his page and closes his book, setting it to the side.  “Are you done?”  He asks, checking the time.

            The clock reads 8:00 pm.  Thirty full minutes since they’d arrived.  Had time really passed so quickly?  Nanase shakes his head, spraying droplets of water on the pool deck nearest to him.  Sousuke’s frown deepens.  _Why are you stopping then?_   The question is on his tongue, but Nanase speaks up first.  “Why aren’t you swimming?”

            Oh.  _Oh_.  He remembers then, fragments of a memory he’d sooner forget.  The elevator.  Towels falling.  His own aborted attempt to pick them up.  And a question whispered in the space between them.  _Your shoulder hasn’t healed yet?_   The same question is clear as day on Nanase’s face now, unspoken even as he continues to gaze unflinchingly at Sousuke.

            “Two more weeks till I’m given the all clear to swim again,” he answers, fist clenching at his side.  The coach has been so accommodating given his situation, but it’s two weeks he’ll be behind his team. 

            Two more weeks behind Rin.

            Nanase nods, like that was all he’d needed to know, and pulls his goggles back on again, pushing off the wall.  The strokes resume their rhythmic splashing, but Sousuke doesn’t pick up his book again.  Instead he watches Nanase swim, frown still clouding his face.

            They _aren’t_ friends, he thinks to himself for the thousandth time, as if he needs the reminder.  Given their personalities, they’ll never _be_ friends.  Rin is the only thing that connects them, the only glue tentatively holding them together.  Well, Rin and the pool Nanase is currently taking advantage of.

            But his swimming _is_ beautiful, Sousuke has to admit.  He can see why Rin’s always been so enamored with him.  Sousuke may not like Nanase, but the water certainly does.  Every stroke he takes makes it look as if the water is parting to make way for him, rather than him having to force his way through, the way Sousuke often feels he does.

            He watches the other swim for a while with a calculating eye.  The other is smooth in his strokes, rotating his entire body on a single axis.  His arms are bent at a nearly 45 degree angle, fingers escaping the water, but not far enough to ruin his aerodynamics.  When he breathes, it doesn’t throw him off his rhythm, a trick that Sousuke still struggles with.  He wonders, as Nanase executes a perfect flip-turn, how much of this is training and how much is just pure, raw talent.

            Given what he’s heard from Rin, it’s mostly talent.

            Nanase stops again, looking over as if he can feel the weight of Sousuke’s gaze on him.  Sousuke realizes he’s been staring and, embarrassed, grabs his book again.  The other pushes off the wall, mercifully not saying anything, and Sousuke tries to go back to reading.  It’s harder this time, though, and he finds himself daydreaming about what he can improve on his own technique to prevent further injury when he returns.

            This time he’s so caught up in his own thoughts he doesn’t realize the splashing had stopped until a shadow covers his book and a few water droplets fall on the bleacher in front of him.  He looks up, surprised to see the other dressed already, towel wrapped around his neck.  Sousuke leans to the side and looks at the clock.  It’s well after 9:00 pm already, somehow.

            They don’t exchange words as Sousuke packs his book away and closes his bag.  They walk silently together out the door until Sousuke realizes that he doesn’t know if the other can find his way back.

            Nanase doesn’t say anything, but the confused expression on his face betrays him.  They may not be friends (they’re _not_ ), but Sousuke isn’t so much a jerk to abandon the other, so he takes the lead, making his way back to the supermarket.  He even pretends he can’t feel the slump of relief behind him.

            They get back to where they started, shop dark at the late hour, and it’s awkward again.  It never wasn’t, really.  Nanase just clutches the strap of his bag and looks away, unhelpful as always, forcing Sousuke to be the one to speak.  “Well, message me again, I guess…”  He mutters, looking away at the grateful expression the other flashes him.  “See ya,” he waves, turning away and heading back before he can do something stupid like start to have positive feelings about Nanase.

* * *

 

            Makoto is all worry when Haru walks in fifteen minutes before the hour.  His hands flutter barely an inch away from his arms, clearly itching to check for injury.  “Where have you been?”  He demands, concern leaking into the older brother tone he clearly intended.

            Haru shrugs his shoulder, pushing the other away without touching him.  “I left a note,” he reminds Makoto impassively, slipping off his shoes and stepping inside.  Rin’s still there, sitting on their couch, teeth worrying his lower lip.  He looks up at Haru, expressions flitting across his face till they finally settle into relief.

            “Hey,” he starts casually, but Haru just continues down the hall.  “Haru!”  Rin calls out for him, and he still can’t quite say no.

            Haru stops and turns around, looking at his two best friends, clearly worried and guilty, standing there in his living room.  Makoto is hovering a few feet behind Rin, who is now standing, fists balled at his sides.  The three of them stand there, a silent staring contest, until Rin breaks it.  “We were seriously worried about you, you know.”

            As if the words broke some spell, Makoto rushes past his boyfriend and rests his hands on Haru’s shoulders.  “Are you hurt anywhere?”  The other asks, and in the background Haru spots ugly jealousy flicker across Rin’s face for a second.  He pushes Makoto off again.

            “I’m fine.  I went swimming.”

            Rin tuts, and Makoto levels him with a disbelieving look.  “None of the pools around here are open after seven pm.”

            “I went to the university,” he clarifies, nodding towards Rin.

            Makoto turns to the other, confused.  “Haru can just walk in and swim whenever?”

            “What?  No of course not.”  Rin frowns.  “I’d been meaning to invite him to come swim whenever, but only swimmers can get in after-hours…”

            Haru sighed.  It would take them ages to reach the right conclusion wrong at this rate.  “Yamazaki let me in.”

            “Sousuke?”  Rin asks, clearly surprised.  He pulls out his phone and types a hurried text.  It’s obvious that neither of them believe him.  He doesn’t blame them; Yamazaki and him have never had a positive relationship.  Makoto turns to Rin, his hand still hovering in the same place where Haru had shrugged it away.  “Huh,” Rin finally allows.  “I didn’t even know you had his number.  Say where did you…”

            But Haru has no further interest in this.  He’s already turned away, walking back to his room.  Rin’s question fades into the background, and Haru’s relieved when he’s able to shut his door without being further interrupted.  He leans his head back against the door, breathing in and out deeply five times before dropping his bag and slipping the towel off his shoulders.

            He wishes he’d asked Yamazaki if he could use the locker room shower.  As much as he loves the water and the chlorine that comes with it, it’s itching his skin and he needs clean water to wash it off.  A fit of irritation overwhelms him that this is _his_ apartment too, and he shouldn’t feel scared to walk out of his room to use his own bathroom.

            Haru shucks off his jacket and tosses it carelessly atop his bag before yanking the door open and heading back out.  He barely makes it into the bathroom before there’s a soft knock.  Makoto then.

            “Come in,” he says, stripping down to just his suit.

            Makoto pokes his head in as if to check if Haru is decent before walking in all the way and closing the door behind him.  He stands there quietly as Haru turns on the water.  As much as he’d like to sit in the bath again, he has class early in the morning.  A shower it is.

            Makoto waits until the shower is turned on to speak.  “Sorry,” he mutters finally, just as Haru is stepping in.  There are a thousand meanings in that apology, something he’s gotten used to hearing now. 

            Haru pauses.  “It’s fine,” he says because that’s what he says now, even when it’s not.

            “Do you…”  Makoto hesitates, looking back to the bathroom door.  “Do you want me to send Rin home?”

            Haru blinks.  He knows Makoto’s just asking to be nice.  It would be rude to kick Rin out now, after 10.  Haru doesn’t know the train schedule well enough yet, but he’s sure they’re coming up on the last one.  “No.”  He tells Makoto firmly, getting in the shower.

            It’s half a lie.  He doesn’t want to send Rin home, because even though he’s still trying to get over him, he _likes_ having the redhead around.  He’s not the same Rin who came back from Australia full of glares and accusations, but he’s also not the same wide eyed Rin from before Australia, the one who made romantic declarations like it was as easy as breathing and steamrolled all their lives with a grin.  He’s something in between, but better at the same time.  He makes their lives better, more interesting, and if Haru made Makoto send him home right now, he knows it would kill Rin inside.

            “Thank you,” comes the whispered response.  There’s a click and he’s alone in the bathroom.

            He washes himself off, trying to scrub an itch that won’t come out with the chlorine.  He wonders if it will be like this all year; if they’ll go on dates and come back, locking themselves in Makoto’s room, unknowingly forcing Haru to message Yamazaki to ask for time at the pool.

            He knows it won’t _always_ be like this.  Rin will have morning practices, and Makoto will get busy with his classwork.  They won’t have time for dates, and it will be impractical for Rin to take the train to and from his school every day.  He almost feels bad.  He knows how hard it had been for Makoto after graduation, how often he’d checked his phone with a guilty expression on his face as he canceled plan after plan with Rin.  This is probably the only night they’ll have to spend together until the holidays.

            But he doesn’t feel bad enough to change and go sit in the living room with them, theorizing about classes that start the next day.  Instead he just towels himself off and disappears back into his room, changing immediately into his sleeping clothes.  He hears the two of them retire to Makoto’s room not long after.

            Haru closes his eyes and hopes the two of them don’t decide to go at it again.  He has an early class in the morning.

* * *

 

            Sousuke isn’t surprised to wake up the next morning and see that Rin still hasn’t returned.  He knew Makoto wouldn’t be able to force Rin back to their dorm before classes the next morning.  It’s hard to refuse Rin anything when he gets stubborn enough about it.

            They don’t have any classes together, so he doesn’t mind too much when he packs up his bag and leaves for the communal kitchen alone.

            There are a few other blurry-eyed athletes in there already, several dressed as if they’d just finished training.  He recognizes one of them from the night before, but they don’t exchange any words as the other feeds himself, eyes half closed.  He’s not a swimmer, wearing a shirt that advertises the volleyball club instead.

            Sousuke ignores him, making his own breakfast instead.  He’s an ok cook, nothing special as he discovered the night before, but not bad.  What he isn’t, though, is a morning person.  It takes him twice as long to prepare his food as it should, and he ends up having to stuff it down just to make it to class in time.

            He has to wait until the afternoon to get to the lecture that uses his new favorite sports medicine training book, sitting through a biology class and anatomy in the morning.  It’s a small lecture, much smaller than his previous two, and he’s surprised to find it nearly filled by the time he gets there.

            He slides into one of the last empty seats, not betraying his surprise when he recognizes the volleyball club member from earlier in the chair next to him.  He doesn’t say anything, though, wishing that Rin was here with him to break the silence.

            “You’re the guy from the kitchen, right?”  The other breaks the silence first, to Sousuke’s relief.  He nods as he pulls out his notebook and already worn text book.

            He can feel the other’s gaze on the book, riddled with sticky notes.  “Yeah.  I’m on the swim team.”  He doesn’t mention his injury or that he can’t practice with them for the first couple of weeks.  “Yamazaki Sousuke.”

            “Sawamura Daichi,” the other responds, sticking out his hand politely.  He has a firm handshake, Sousuke notes.  He likes him already.  “Volleyball.”  Sawamura lets go.  “You from Tokyo?”

            “Ah, no.”  Sousuke taps his pencil on the table.  Where he’s from gets complicated.  “I went to Tokyo for school for a few years, but I graduated from Samezuka Academy.  Tottori prefecture.”  He pauses before remembering to be polite.  “You?”

            “Karasuno Academy.  Miyagi prefecture,” the other responds, not seeming put out at all by the pause.

            The conversation dwindles between the two of them, and Sousuke is immensely glad when the professor walks in, telling them all to quiet down.  He likes the guy and they could probably be friends, but Sousuke isn’t as good at making friends as Rin is, and it just gets harder as he gets older.  He’s not sure if he’s becoming more introverted or if people are just getting less interested in making new friends now that they already have enough established.

            The lecture isn’t as exciting as Sousuke hoped.  Most of the hour is taken up with the professor going over his syllabus and schedule.  He briefly goes into the book’s introduction, talking about the same things it had, before time’s up.  He assigns reading and assures them that class will get more difficult from here on out before dismissing them.

            Sousuke stands up, stretching his back.  Next to him, Sawamura’s already gathering his things.  “Do you have class after this?”  The volleyball player asks him.

            “No this was my last of the day.”

            “Mine too.”

            Knowing that this could be his chance to make a friend who _isn’t_ Rin or another member of the swim team, Sousuke hastens to pack up his things.  The two of them head back towards the dorms together, chatting about the class.

            “You know,” Sawamura tells him, brushing his hair out of his face, “I was expecting to actually learn something useful today.”

            Sousuke nods.  “I was hoping we would get into more details than the textbook…”

            “You already read quite a bit ahead of what he assigned, didn’t you?”  The other asks, and Sousuke finds himself embarrassed.

            “I was bored, and it was interesting reading…”  He starts, trailing off his excuses when the other waves his hand in front of himself.

            “No, no there’s nothing wrong with it.  Not at all.  I was just…surprised to see someone already so dedicated.  Makes me feel like I’ve got to start trying harder.”  He has a smile on his face, and Sousuke chuckles, the competitive atmosphere reminding him of Rin.

            “Are you suggesting that we race to see who finishes the book faster?”

            “Well…volleyball is usually more focused on a points system.”  The other grins as they push open the doors to their dorm building.  They pause when they reach a junction, clearly ready to part ways.  “Tell you what,” Sawamura suggests, “how about we study together and then see who gets the better grade at the end?”

            It’s as good an invitation to friendship as anything.  “Sounds good to me.”

            They exchange numbers and mail addresses before parting ways.

            Sousuke heads to the first afternoon practice, despite not being able to swim with the team yet.  Rin’s already there, stretching, grin wide on his face when he meets Sousuke’s eyes.  “I didn’t think you’d come,” the redhead tells him when they’re close enough.

            “Just because I can’t swim yet doesn’t mean I shouldn’t attend the practices,” Sousuke reminds him.  He knows they’ve had this conversation before.

            Rin’s smile doesn’t fade.  “I know, I know.  Still, it’s nice to see a familiar face.”  It isn’t until the admission is out in the open that Sousuke notices the way the other is shifting nervously between his feet.  Rin’s all bravado and smoke and mirrors; sometimes he forgets that the redhead is just as fragile as everyone else.

            “I wouldn’t leave you alone to the sharks,” Sousuke chides, bumping the other’s shoulder with his fist.

            “Shut up.”  But the joking air seems to have relaxed Rin, and when they’re called over to meet the rest of the team he goes ahead of Sousuke, no sign of hesitation.

            Sousuke recognizes a few faces from high school meets, but there’s no one (other than Rin) on the team who he actually knows.  There’s an upper classman who’s also benched with an injury, though, so at least he’s not alone when they break from introductions to start swimming.

            The other injured swimmer doesn’t seem too keen on making friends though, instead opting to stare bitterly at the floor when they’re benched.  Sousuke came prepared, though, and pulls out his resistance bands.  His shoulder exercises don’t take up all of the practice time, but they give him something to concentrate on for long enough that when he’s left with nothing to do, he’s less bitter about watching the other swimmers than he was before.

            His eyes move from one swimmer to the next, never focusing for too long on each.  None of them, not even Rin, have that same grace he’d watched Nanase swim with the night before.  There’s a huge variation in form even between the ones here.  Rin no longer looks like he’s trying to beat the water into submission, like he had when they were younger, but rather looks like a shark bearing down on his prey as he covers meter after meter.

            There are some who look more like they’re flailing than swimming, Sousuke notes wryly.  He wonders how they can be as fast as they are now with form as bad as theirs.  He takes mental note of the swimmers whose cores wiggle out of place of the rest of their body when they breathe, and for a brief moment he has the insane urge to message Nanase with a video of it.

            He doesn’t though; it’s only a brief moment of insanity after all.

            Practice mercifully ends after two hours of hearing the other injured swimmer huff next to him.  He makes his way to the locker room after the rest of the swimmers, question to Rin regarding dinner on the tip of his tongue, but it dies when he sees the other already out of the shower and changing at a lightning fast rate.

            “What’s the rush?”  He asks instead, and Rin flashes him a guilty look.

            “We only have afternoon practice and Makoto didn’t get much homework so…”  He trails off giving a shrug as if to say _so that’s that_.  And that _is_ that, Sousuke supposes.

            Rin finishes changing and locks his locker, grabbing his bag and hoisting it over his shoulder.  Sousuke automatically pushes the locker room door open for him and speeds his own walking pace to keep up with Rin’s.

            “We don’t know how often we’ll be able to see each other when things pick up,” Rin continues explaining, still clearly feeling guilty about unknowingly turning Sousuke down.  “So we’re trying to see each other as often as possible now.”

            He wonders how much of this was Rin’s idea and how much was Makoto’s.  Rin’s lack of self-esteem runs deep, something that he carried back with him from Australia, and Sousuke hadn’t been blind to the fear the other had experienced in the weeks he hadn’t seen his boyfriend.

            “It’s fine,” he assures Rin, watches his shoulders relax.  “I’ll still be here.”

            There’s pure relief in Rin’s eyes when they part ways, and Sousuke realizes that bag must hold a change of clothes and his textbooks.  “Thanks Sou.”  The redhead gives him a soft smile that Sousuke can’t help but return.

            He returns to his room alone, noting that Rin’s bedding still lay unused on the top bunk.  Another night with his own mediocre cooking then.  He eats alone in the communal area, nodding at the athletes that walk in and out, though Sawamura isn’t among them.  He isn’t surprised when, just as he finishes dinner, there’s a buzzing of a message on his phone of Nanase asking to use the pool again.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AKA: Everyone misses Rei.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I have no idea how late Japanese supermarkets are open

            Haru’s mad at him again, Makoto can tell.  He’s not giving him the same silent treatment as he had leading up to nationals, not any silent treatment at all actually, but there’s something about the way Haru’s acting.

            He tries to talk to him before they head to classes their first day, but by the time he manages to untangle himself from the sheets – Rin long gone, note left on the nightstand – Haru’s already left for his first class. 

            And Makoto’s already late.

            He’s attending a small university specializing in elementary education.  It’s a relatively short train ride away from his apartment, even further from Rin’s school.  He’d chosen this apartment due to its proximity to Haru’s college and dislike for trains.  It seemed like a good idea at the time, but right now – he must’ve forgotten to turn on his alarm last night in his excitement to see Rin – it’s a curse.

            Makoto runs out of the apartment, shirt buttoned one hole off and note from Rin clutched in his hand.  He makes it barely on time for the next train, one that will get him to the campus just a minute after class starts, before he pauses to breathe.  He should work out more.

            A laugh brings his head up and he sees two girls – high schoolers judging by their uniforms – giggling at him.  He looks away, flushing, and straightens up, catching his reflection in the mirror.  Rin would laugh at him, he knows it.  He looks like he’s just bolted out of bed.

            To be fair, he had.

            By some miracle, he manages to find the building and make it to class before the professor.  A quick glance at the clock reveals that he’s not early; she’s just running late.  The classroom is slightly larger than the rooms in Iwatobi, set up with rows of benches instead of desks, and is mostly filled up with a few seats in the very front and one in the back.

            Like a good student, he makes his way to one of the seats in front and sits down just as the professor walks, hair and clothes askew like she’d just escaped a windstorm.  At least he’s not the only one.

            “I apologize for my lateness,” she states calmly, taking out a messy pile of papers from her bag.  Makoto spots what appears to be the corner of a crayon drawing peeking out before she sets it on her table and out of his view.  “I am Professor Takano.”  She straightens her glasses in a move that reminds Makoto forcibly of Rei and a pang of longing goes through him.

            While Professor Takano finishes setting up, he covertly takes a look around.  Unsurprisingly, he doesn’t recognize anyone in the room.  Also unsurprisingly, he’s one of 3 males in the class.  It doesn’t phase him much – he gets along with girls just as easily as boys – but the lack of Haru in his class, something he hasn’t had to deal with for as long as he can remember, does.

            It’s going to be hard to get used to, he notes as she draws his attention back and begins her lecture.

            The rest of his classes that day follow a similar pattern of melancholy, and Makoto progressively chooses seats further and further back until he’s all the way in the last row.  It’s strange, he thinks as the Psychology 101 professor writes notes on the board, that he had been so ready to no longer be part of the unit _Makoto and Haru_ just last year, but now that he’s finally experiencing that freedom he’s…floundering.

            A buzz against the wood of his seat startles him out of his thoughts.  A few of his classmates in the back row glare at him, and he blushes.  Not a good start to his college career.  Once they turn back to the front, he looks at his phone, mood improving exponentially.

            _Hey no morning practice tomorrow either.  See you tonight?_

            Makoto can’t help the wide grin that spreads across his face.  Everything Rin does makes him happy these days, whether intentional or not.  Suddenly the lack of Haru in the classroom doesn’t seem to be as devastating as it had before.

            _Not much homework yet._   He types back.  _When’s practice out?_

            Rin must not be in class, because the phone vibrates against his leg almost immediately after.  It’s not as loud as the last time, but Makoto still hastens to silence it.

            _Before dinner.  Meet at your place._

            He sends Haru a warning text with no response, but that doesn’t surprise him.  Besides, he decides, this will probably be good for both of them.

* * *

 

            When Rin rings the bell to Makoto’s apartment, he’s mildly surprised Haru’s the one who answers.  Only mildly because he does, actually, remember that Makoto had told him yesterday – between heated kisses and moans muted by teeth on skin – that his schedule today is packed.

            “Rin.”  Haru, for his part, doesn’t look surprised at all.  He also doesn’t step back.

            “Can I come in…?”  Rin leads, stepping inside once Haru moves away.  “I assume Makoto told you I was coming over.”  A nod.  “And I don’t suppose you know when he gets out of class?”  A shake.  Rin kicks off his shoes and steps inside.  There are tarps thrown over the floor, an easel sitting in the middle of the room.  Before Rin can move to see what Haru’s painting, the other has already covered it up.  “Are you gonna talk to me at all or just keep moving your head cryptically?”

            Haru sighs, the familiar sound making Rin smile.  Even with everything that’s happened, he can still irritate Haru, same as before.  “Do you want something to drink, _Rin_?”  Haru asks, emphasizing his name in a tone just a little colder than usual.

            Rin’s smile fades at that.  Guess things aren’t quite back to normal.  “Hey, Haru…I’m really sorry.”

            “About what?”

            “Everything really.  Mostly about last year and –”

            “I get it Rin.”  Haru has his back to him, fussing with the cover over the painting.

            It just makes Rin feel more helpless.  “Do you?  Because you ran out last night, so you definitely don’t seem to ‘get it’.  Not to mention you went to Sousuke, and you guys don’t even like each other, don’t pretend you’re good at hiding it.  Besides –”

            “Rin.”  This time when Haru interrupts him, he’s facing towards Rin.  “You talk too much.”

            He’s babbling, he knows it.  “Some would say it’s endearing,” he shrugs, collapsing onto the couch.  “So you’re gonna keep pretending you’re not mad?”

            Haru doesn’t even bother answering.  He just shoots a glare and casually slips into the kitchen.  “Do you want something to drink?”

            “Soda.”

            Rin hears the tap come on and takes a moment to admire the apartment.  He hadn’t really had the chance last night.  It’s plain, simple.  Just as he’d expect from Haru and Makoto.  But it’s still larger than the single room dorm he and Sousuke have to share.  Not that he’d had a chance to explore that one either.

            There’s a clink of glass on the table as Haru sits on the other side of the couch.  “I asked for soda,” Rin points out.

            Haru shrugs.  “Aren’t you an athlete?”

            He huffs and takes a sip of the water, not knowing why he expected anything different really.  An awkward silence falls over the apartment.  Rin swirls the water around his glass, staring at the covered easel.  He wonders absently if this is what it’s like for Haru and Makoto all the time.  If their time is spent mostly in silence.

            If their silence has ever been this awkward.

            The lock clicks, handle scraping, and Haru bolts up as if burned.  He abandons his water on the table and gathers up his art supplies.  “Ah, Haru, you don’t have to –“

            But he’s already gone down the hall, and Makoto’s stepping inside.  “I’m home.”  Rin sets his own glass down and approaches his boyfriend, shooting one worried glance after Haru.  “Rin.  You’re here already.”

            “Well yeah.  I told you when practice got out.”

            “Guess you did.”  For a moment, Rin thinks Makoto’s about to lean in and kiss him.  But then the other just slips off his shoes and steps past.  “Is Haru here?”

            “Uh, yeah…”  Though Rin’s answer is unnecessary the moment Haru steps out of his room again, gym bag slung across his shoulder.  “Swimming?”

            Haru inclines his head, brushing past Rin and slipping his shoes on.  “Yamazaki will let me in.”

            “Haru…”  Makoto trails off.  “Have fun.”  He gives the former swimmer a soft smile as he leaves.

            Rin just manages to stop himself from clutching his chest as his heart stutters.  He shoves his way out of the entrance, back to the couch with his barely touched water still on the side.  “Wanna go somewhere for dinner?”  This place reminds him too much of Haru and how connected he and Makoto still are.  Rin reminds himself Makoto’s dating _him_ , but he’s not fooling anyone.

            “Ah, yes.  Let me just drop off my things.”

            “I’ll pay,” he calls after the other, disappeared down the hall.

            Makoto chuckles.  “You paid last night,” he reminds Rin, reappearing bag-less.  He’s smiling in that way Rin can’t resist, and he crosses the room in three long steps.

            “Jeez, can’t a guy want to spoil his boyfriend?”  He leans right up into the other’s space, arm resting on the wall.

            Makoto laughs again, more relaxed than before.  Rin hadn’t even noticed how stiff he was.  “That’s so cheesy, Rin.”

            “Shut up.”  They close the distance, practiced at it now.  There’s no harsh bumping of teeth, no noses pressing where they don’t belong.  They know exactly how to get to each other, exactly which buttons to press and how hard to press them.

            Rin feels a thud at his back, the only sign that he’d been spun and pressed against the wall by Makoto.  And fuck, does he love that.  If Rin ever had a type it would be someone stronger than him.

            His pants are already tight, his hands already wandering across Makoto’s body, slipping under his shirt, his pants, his –

            GRRR.

            Makoto breaks away from him slowly, lips lingering a second longer before he drops his head to Rin’s shoulder.  “Sorry.  I haven’t eaten much today…”

            Rin taps his head lightly with a fist, willing his erection down.  “Stupid.  That’s not something you need to apologize for.”

            They separate with some difficulty, shirts already askew.  Rin has to look away when Makoto runs a hand through his hair.  It should be illegal for someone to look that sexual.  Really.  Fingers find their way into his own hair, and he twitches.  “Sorry,” Makoto murmurs, breath pulsing against Rin’s neck as he speaks.  “Couldn’t let anyone else see you like that.”

            Well shit.

            He makes a run for it, shoving his head into the freezer, Makoto’s confused laughter trailing after him.  “It’s your fault,” he grumbles to the frozen fish.

            “That’s why I apologized, you know.”  Makoto appears behind him when Rin’s pants finally start to fit right again.  “If I’d eaten earlier we wouldn’t have needed to stop.”

            “We would’ve needed to eventually anyway,” Rin counters.  “I haven’t eaten since lunch either.”  He chooses to ignore mentioning that they wouldn’t have gotten all the way anyway.  He may be in love with Makoto, but that doesn’t mean Makoto feels the same about him. 

            The sobering thought pushes the last of Rin’s erection out the window.  “Dinner?  I was thinking something different than last night.  Maybe just ramen or something…”  He slips his shoes on as he speaks, hoping the other won’t notice the no doubt sudden change in expression.

            Makoto surprises him, as he always seems to, by kissing his cheek as he steps past to put his own shoes on.  “Ramen sounds great.”  Rin’s heart slams loudly in his chest, reminding him how thoroughly screwed he is.

* * *

 

            They meet in front of the same supermarket as last time, Haru arriving first.  He shuffles his feet, standing off to the side as the last few stragglers finish buying their groceries.  He pointedly averts his eyes at one particularly disapproving granny when Yamazaki’s shoes come into view.

            He recognizes the same black and orange pair from the first time they met since Rin had returned.  More worn now, especially on the insides.  Yamazaki should really correct his stride.  Rei had given Haru a twenty minute speech on his running form leading up to the sports relay last year.

            His stomach turns to ice, and Haru finally looks up, meeting Yamazaki’s gaze.  Unreadable as always.

            “Ready?”  No greeting, no false pretenses.  Haru has to admit he likes that aspect of Yamazaki.  He never pretends they’re anything different than rivals with a mutual friend.

            Though they aren’t exactly rivals anymore.

            “Yeah.”  He picks up his bag from the ground, slinging it over his shoulder and heads after Yamazaki, staying one step behind.

            He’s still not exactly sure where he is, but he trusts Yamazaki’s judgement, despite Rin’s voice in his head telling him _Sou’s horrible with directions.  I can’t let him go anywhere alone._

            Somehow he’s managed all this time in Tokyo without Rin.

            Haru shakes his head of the redhead.  No.  He’s getting over Rin.  Thinking about him constantly isn’t going to help that happen.

            They don’t exchange a single word the rest of the way to the pool, and once he’s been let in, Yamazaki heads straight over to the bleachers.  Haru frowns after him before shrugging it off and stripping.  He had said not yet.

            He dives into the pool, letting the water drift over him.  The world outside of him mutes, the water welcoming him back.  When his lungs can’t take it anymore, he breaks for the surface and takes strokes.  Slowly, steadily, makes his way across the pool.  Flip.  Turn.  Kick.  Stroke.

            It’s repetitive, mindless, exactly what he needs.  Eventually, mind calm, Haru lets himself come back to the present.  He’s not the only one in the pool this time, a few others swimming in their own lanes, leaving at least one in between each other.

            Yamazaki’s the only one on the bleachers, same book as the night before cradled in his lap.  It’s going to crease soon if he’s not careful.  He’s invested in it, pencil tapping idly against the pages in a rhythm Haru doesn’t recognize.  He’s different like this, eyes half lidded, hair falling over his forehead.  Less angry.

            As if drawn to his gaze, Yamazaki looks up, eyes making contact with Haru’s.  It’s only at that moment that Haru realizes he’d stopped swimming.  He narrows his eyes and pushes off the wall again, forcing the same emptiness to fill his mind.  It’s not his fault Yamazaki can’t swim.  He shouldn’t focus on it so much.

            It’s different than what he’s going through.  Disconnected.  Yamazaki has physical therapy, time.  Haru has…

            He’s thinking too much.

            The water rejects him, slowly, not as suffocating as last year, but still there.  His strokes get sluggish, his pace slowing.  He goes from breathing every fifth stroke to every third, every other.  Barely makes it to the wall before he shoots his head out, coughing.  He’d swallowed water instead of breathing.

            He throws off his goggles, frustrated.  This is just like the painting earlier.  It should come easy to him, but instead he’s drowning in what he used to know.

            A hand appears in his vision, fingers rougher than Makoto’s, wrapped around a water bottle.  “You alright?”

            Haru doesn’t even look up.  “Fine,” he coughs.  Then again, since his airway still isn’t clear.

            The water bottle shakes in front of him.  “Don’t be stubborn.”

            Haru brushes it aside and pulls himself out of the pool anymore.  He’s not in the mood.  He looks up at the clock.  A full 20 minutes.  Not even enough time for Rin and Makoto to make it out the door.

            He coughs a few times walking to his bag, finally giving up when Yamazaki shoves the water bottle in front of his face just as they get there.  It helps, even if he doesn’t want to admit it.  “Thanks,” he says reluctantly, when it’s clear Yamazaki isn’t leaving him alone.

            The other swimmer has a frown on his face but doesn’t ask any questions.

            He stomps off to the locker room, hoping a shower will at least clear his mind, but once the water runs over his shoulders he doesn’t feel the relief he was hoping for.  Instead there’s just a pit of dread in his stomach when he realizes he has to go back to his apartment and listen to Rin and Makoto fail to be silent the rest of the night.

            If they were back in Iwatobi, he’d go for a run to clear his mind.

            Of course, if they were back in Iwatobi, he’d have his own house and wouldn’t have to worry about things like this.

            Yamazaki’s on the bench next to his bag by the time Haru gets out of the shower.  He has that book in his hand, closed this time, and he turns away when Haru approaches.

            “Do you have your books?”  Yamazaki asks.

            “No.”

            “Do you need to study?”

            “No.”

            Haru zips his bag and tosses it over his shoulder.  Unsatisfied.  Yamazaki stands up.  “Rin has some games and a small tv.”  It’s not a direct offer, but playing video games in a dorm room sounds better than the alternative.

            “Alright then.”

            It’s not quite a smile, but Sousuke’s face gets softer before he turns and leads the way to the dorm.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, I'm back. Sorry that took so long. I was training for a half marathon-> prepping for dance performance -> making cosplay. I still have my second (and last!) half marathon left but eh...whatever. I missed posting things. I have a lot of plans for the volleyball boys, so this might turn into a Free/Haikyuu fic. Haven't decided. At the least they'll be listed.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I don't really have a summary for this one

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't realize I'd been sitting on a 90% complete chapter until Camp Nano started and I opened up the document to write. Sorry about that guys. Anyway...things happen but not really. Time will start speeding up next chapter, no worries. We won't be stuck in week 1 of school forever. (yeah it's only been like 3 days)

            Rin and Yamazaki’s dorm is small, just enough room for their beds and desks, though there are a few weights by the window.  Half the room is still packed in boxes Haru assumes belong to Rin.  Yamazaki sets his book down on one of the desks, already scattered with papers, and grabs the top of one of Rin’s boxes pulling it open.

            “You –“ Haru’s not sure what he means to say, but Yamazaki pulls out a controller and tosses it on the floor near Haru’s feet.

            “It’s his own fault for not unpacking,” Yamazaki states, like that explains everything.  Maybe for him, it does.

            He unpacks the game station and small tv with more care, setting the box on the floor under the desk.  Haru scoops up the controller, wishing he had some homework or had at least thought to bring his sketchbook along.  Standing in the middle of a half packed room watching Yamazaki set up the nintendo and tv was…awkward to say the least.

            “You can sit on my bed,” Yamazaki breaks the silence, finally done fussing with Rin’s desk.  “I have homework to do anyway.”

            Haru’s stomach twists uncomfortably.  Pity; that must be why Yamazaki’s letting him stay here.  He tosses the controller carelessly on the lower bunk, ignoring that the system is already starting up.  “I don’t want your pity.”

            Yamazaki actually has the gall to look exasperated.  “It’s not pity, you know.  Don’t get so defensive.”

            Haru ignores him, staring at the weights instead.  He still has his bag slung over his shoulder.  It would be so easy to leave now and pretend he was never here.

            “I walked in on them once,” Yamazaki pulls out the chair with a scrape, drawing Haru’s attention.  The swimmer is pulling a textbook towards him, different than the one Haru’s seen him with the past few days.  Yamazaki must take his silence as a question, because he continues.  “Before I knew they were together, too.  Didn’t even realize Makoto was coming over.”  He taps his pencil on the desk, same as he had on the bleachers earlier.  “Though in their defense I was supposed to be gone that night.”

            Yamazaki turns, pinning Haru in place with his gaze.  “That experience isn’t something I’d wish even on my worst enemy.”

            He doesn’t have anything to say to that.  He lets himself stay frozen, perfectly still, until Yamazaki returns his attention to his studies.  Some happy startup music is making noise in the background, the sound finally registering in Haru’s brain.  He grabs the controller, gingerly sitting on the bed.  Being here is…strange.

            It’s a mindless game, probably intended to be played with others, but the only one Haru plays anything with is Makoto.  He frowns, missing a turn and hitting his cart against the wall instead.  “Since when are you and Makoto on first name terms?”  He asks, irritated enough about it to opt out of staying silent.

            Yamazaki gives what could almost be mistaken for a chuckle.  “Kinda hard not to be with someone like him.”

            Haru lets it go, the silence between them growing again, only broken by Yamazaki’s pencil scratching away on his paper and the faint sounds of the game.  He plays until Yamazaki finally stands up, stretching, and declares that the last train will be there soon if they’re not careful.  He hadn’t even noticed how much time had passed.  It wasn’t that playing Mario Cart alone was _fun_ , but the mindlessness of it let him zone out and not think.  It’s what swimming should’ve been.

            Yamazaki walks him back to the supermarket again, silent as before.  “See you later, I suppose.”  He waves Haru off and disappears back to the dorm, the darkness swallowing his back as he walks away.

* * *

 

            Rin makes sure to wake up Makoto before he leaves this time, having been scolded for only leaving a note the day before.  Makoto’s less of a morning person than he would’ve thought; he hadn’t had the chance to explore that side of him the year prior.  “I’m headed out,” he murmurs into the other’s ear before Makoto rolls over with a groan.

            Rin chuckles, brushing a kiss to his boyfriend’s temple before he can do something adorable like pull a pillow over his head.  “You’re gonna be late again if you don’t get up soon,” he reminds Makoto as he breezes out of the room, already dressed for the day.

            Haru’s in the kitchen already, making breakfast for himself.  Rin hadn’t heard him come in the night before.  “If you made something other than mackerel, I’d bribe you to make me breakfast one of these days,” Rin tells him, grabbing his glass from the night earlier and taking a sip of water.

            “Mackerel tastes good,” Haru grumps at him, sounding mostly the same as normal.  Rin grabs the spatula and pokes the fish with it, earning a swat against his hand and Haru shooing him away.  “Don’t insult my food then poke it.”

            He chuckles.  “Hey what time did you get back last night?”

            Haru ignores him.

            Rin pokes him in return.  “Haru.”

            “You’re annoying.”

            “You swam for that long huh?  Impressive.”  Rin doesn’t miss how Haru’s back stiffens, his hand pausing over the mackerel.  He’d just been joking around, hoping to regain what they’d lost from before.  After all, when it’s just the two of them things go fairly well.  But today…

            That look could freeze the sun.

            “Haru?”

            If possible, Haru seizes up more.  “You shouldn’t be late to class.”

            Something changed.  Something Rin had said changed and now Haru…he’s just as far away from Rin as he’d been when he was _Nanase_.

            “Haru…”

            “Go to class, Rin.”  Haru doesn’t turn around, but his shoulders hunch around himself.  Shielding himself from further questions.

            It reminds Rin too much of the way he acted last year, and he bolts out of the apartment, not even aware of the words of departure he leaves in his wake.

\---

            Practice reveals kinks in Rin’s muscles he hadn’t noticed before.  His lower back is sore from the night before, the arches of his feet more prone to cramps than usual.

            He and Makoto still hadn’t gone all the way, not yet, but they’d come _so close_ last night.  Even in a 25º pool he feels warm just thinking about it.  They’d tried something new, Makoto sliding between his clenched legs while Rin bit his lip so hard it bled and tried not to beg for _more, please Makoto I know you’ll fit, fuck…_

            Rin hits the turn at a weird angle, barely touching the wall enough for a good push off into his next lap.  Shit.  He needs to get his head in the game.

            With more self-control than he should’ve needed, Rin forces his thoughts from Makoto.  He lets his mind go blank, counting strokes, laps, seconds, breaths.  He finishes the main set faster than he’d started, slapping his hand against the wall with a satisfying smack.  The last lap had turned into a race with the guy in the lane next to him.  It doesn’t give him the same fire racing Haru does.  Nothing can compare to racing Haru.

            But it does remind him that he still doesn’t know the names of his teammates.  They high five before they even catch their breaths, Rin not even sure which of them won.  It doesn’t matter.

            The last set ends up being a kick set, so he tosses his goggles and cap on the deck, grabbing his board.  The same guy pushes off in his heat and they pace each other, staying several notches below race pace.  It’s a speed that allows for conversation, something swimmers rarely get.

            “Matsuoka Rin, right?”  The guy asks as they kick off the wall again.

            Rin smiles, tired but no less pleased to get to know his teammates.  Even if he’s planning to leave for Australia by the end of the year, he still values teammates.  _For the team_.  “Yeah.  Sorry, I don’t think I caught your name before.”

            The guy chuckles, the breathlessness of it the only evidence of the race earlier.  “I never gave it.  Misaki Hayato.  I’m in my second year.”

            Ah, now that he says it, the name sounds more familiar.  Rin had looked up the team prior to joining the university.  Misaki Hayato…  “Breaststroke and IM?”  He asks, just to make sure he’s remembering it right.

            Misaki’s smile widens.  “Got it in one.  I saw you compete at nationals last year.  Impressive.  You don’t often see Tottori representation.”

            “Ah, thanks.”  Heat rises in Rin’s cheeks.  He’s still not used to being complimented and recognized, even if that’s what he’s aiming for.

            Misaki chuckles again.  “No need to get embarrassed.  It’s typical for us to see who our usurpers will be.”

            They finish practice, Misaki pulling himself out of the water easily.  “I’m interested to see what you’re capable of up close, Matsuoka.”  He grabs his things and parts with a wave as Rin pulls himself out of the water.  “See ya tomorrow.”

            Rin grins and makes sure to pat everyone on the shoulder as they leave – any of them could be his next relay team – before he heads over to Sousuke.  “Hey.”

            His roommate snaps shut his textbook and stands, already having finished his physical therapy ages ago.  “You ready?”

            “Yeah, I’ll just shower upstairs.  I still need to unpack.”

            He has his towel over his shoulders and is slipping his feet into his shoes when Sousuke leans in.  “You seemed off today, are you feeling alright?”

            Ah, so he’d noticed the slip up during the set.  Embarrassment creeps up Rin’s neck, tinting his skin pink.  Explaining what had been going on in his mind would be…definitely bad.  As far as he knows, Sousuke’s over him, but…he’s not going to be an ass.  He’s really not.

            “Just lost in thought.”

            “Hm…”  He knows Sousuke well enough to detect the disbelief in his tone, even if he doesn’t really say anything.  Rin brushes it off as much as he can with his neck still hot, heading to the dorm with Sousuke on his heels.

            It’s after his shower, when he’s finally going through his boxes, that Rin finally brings it up.  “Thanks, by the way…for letting Haru swim.”

            “It’s nothing.”  There’s something caged in his voice, something he’s not saying.

            Rin sighs, playing dumb as he tosses an empty box to the side for recycling.  “Ah…that guy sure swims forever.  I didn’t even hear him get in last night.”

            “Mhm.”

            “Ok, spill.”

            Sousuke looks up, having the gall to seem surprised, but Rin doesn’t let that affect him.  He keeps his glare leveled on the other till Sousuke finally sighs, dropping the act.  “He said something to you this morning?”

            “Haru?  No he just got this _look_ when I mentioned swimming.”  Like a deer caught in the headlights.

            Sousuke shrugs.  “He didn’t swim for long.  I let him play Mario Kart instead of going back.”  Huh.  He’d assumed Sousuke had been the one who’d unboxed it.

            “So you guys played Mario Kart and he gets all defensive?  That doesn’t make sense.  I know you’re not exactly best friends but…”

            “Nanase played by himself.”

            “Hah?”

            Sousuke sighs again, closing his book and pushing it to the side.  “Nanase’s not over you, Rin.  I wasn’t going to let him go back there just because he didn’t feel like swimming.”

            Rin cringes at that, memories from the year before coming to the front of his mind.  He’ll probably never get over the embarrassment from Sousuke walking in on him and Makoto that time.  But even through that, he doesn’t miss the strangeness.  The…

            “Wait, Haru didn’t want to swim?”

            Sousuke turns back to his books.  “I’m not getting in the middle of this.”

            Irritated, Rin slams the books he’d been unpacking on his desk.  “That idiot.”  He grabs his sweatshirt and keys.  “I’ll be back later.”  He declares, stomping out and ignoring Sousuke’s calls of “no wait, Rin –“

* * *

 

            Haru’s eye twitches when whoever’s at the door rings the bell for the fifth time.  If he’d had any doubt who it was before, he doesn’t anymore.  He wipes his hands off on his smock, though most of the paint had already dried there.  Maybe he shouldn’t have stared at the blue background so long.

            Rin rings the doorbell again, even as Haru answers the door.  “You’re annoying the neighbors.”

            “Tch.  Answer the first time then,” Rin growls, pushing past him to come inside.  No Rin, not at all.  Come on in.

            Haru sighs and closes the door behind him.  “Makoto’s talking to his family.”

            “I’m here to see you.”  Rin’s already in the kitchen, pouring himself a glass of water like he lives there.  If things keep going the way they have been, he may as well.  Haru almost wishes Makoto would just give him a key so he could come in without disturbing him.

            He does his best to ignore Rin, headed back to his easel.  The ground is covered with the tarp again, splattered with paint.  It crumples as he walks across, messing up his quiet steps from before.  “Why?”

            Rin and his glass – it’s one of Haru’s – make their way over to the couch, flopping down on it where they have a good view of Haru’s unfinished painting.  “You’re avoiding me.”

            “I’m not avoiding you.”  _Right now_.

            “Yeah, not right now.”

            Well, he hadn’t been expecting that.  Usually Makoto’s the one who reads his mind, not Rin.  The swimmer pushes himself off the couch, running his hand through his hair.  Haru doesn’t even think to cover his painting before Rin’s thrown his arm over his shoulder, staring right at it.

            “You’re still one of my best friends, Haru.”

            Rin’s too obvious sometimes; it doesn’t take any effort to read him.  _I’m still worried_ , _I miss you_ , _talk to me_ …It’s all written in the way he’s leaning against Haru, the lines in his frown.  Haru wants to reach up, smooth it out before Rin gets premature wrinkles – ridiculous, he’s more likely now to gain laugh lines – but before he can resist or act on it, there’s a loud thud.

            Makoto’s standing in the hall leading to his room, and if Haru didn’t know him so well he would’ve missed the anger etched in his very stance.  His eyes are cold, fixed on the point where Rin’s chest is pressed against Haru’s shoulder.

            “Haru.”  The tone is laced with a threat.  Haru’s never been on the receiving end of his anger before.  He pushes Rin off, steps a good foot away.  “You didn’t tell me you invited Rin over.”  The glare is replaced by a deceptively calm smile.

            Rin, for his part, doesn’t appear to notice anything.  “Makoto.”  His whole demeanor changes.  The stress fades as he approaches the other.  Haru has to look away; he always does when they get like this.  They’re not even touching, but something about the exchange is too personal, private.  “I stopped by.  I left some of my stuff here last night, and I just wanted to grab it.”

            The lie flows off his tongue so smoothly.  Or maybe it’s not a lie, Haru reflects when Makoto’s bubble is burst with a flush and he looks at Haru, as if expecting him to understand what Rin’s talking about.  “Y-you want me to grab that now?”

            If the back of his neck is any indication, Rin is just as red as Makoto.  “Just my clothes, please.”

            Makoto nods, the flush fading as he looks at Haru once more, warning, and disappears down the hall, leaving him and Rin alone again.

            Rin’s back over in a moment, frown back on his face.  This time, Haru backs up before the redhead can touch him.  “You can always talk to me, you know.  About anything.”  He’s practically begging, and the hesitance fades a bit.  He wishes it were that easy.  That he could tell Rin what he’s thinking and Rin will solve it all for him, no questions asked.  But Rin’s not a fairy godmother, doesn’t even have all his own answers, and there are some things he needs to figure out on his own anyway.

            Rin sighs again, headed towards the door as Makoto’s footsteps echo down the hallway.  “I’m here for you, don’t forget that.”  He shoots Haru a smile, for the first time that night.  “By the way, that looks just like the ocean.  I like it.”

* * *

 

            The only thing stranger than Rin leaving irritated over Nanase is that he actually returns again before too late.  He’s carrying a bag revealed as dirty clothes when he dumps them in the bin, followed immediately by him collapsing onto Sousuke’s bed in a huff.

            “It went that well, huh?”

            Rin groans.  “Haru’s dodgier than you sometimes.”

            Sousuke closes his book, turning to face Rin fully.  “You can’t fix everything.”  He had been like this last year, over the relay.  Whether Momo deserved the spot or if it should still belong to Uozumi.  Rin cares too much about other people, it’s amazing he even has time to think about himself.

            “I know, I just –“

            “Leave it, Rin.”  Sousuke gets up, shooing Rin off the bed.  He doesn’t leave.  “Don’t you have unpacking to finish?”

            Finally, he gets the picture, getting off Sousuke’s bed and headed to his still packed boxes.  “When’d you get so mature?”

            Sousuke chuckles, sense of humor still intact.  “I’ve always been like this.  It’s just taken you a while to catch up.”

            He doesn’t expect it, but Rin drops the subject as he packs, asking Sousuke about his classes instead, the two of them falling into conversation as easily as they always had.  As he’d thought, Rin’s mostly interested in the sports medicine class Sousuke was in, asking questions he hadn’t even thought of yet.  If Rin doesn’t keep disappearing off to see Makoto, he thinks he and Sawamura would probably get along.

            “College is weird.”  Rin’s voice comes from above him a few hours later when they’ve given up on finding a spot for Rin’s map of Australia – the pins he’d claimed to have packed went missing, resulting in a ten minute argument before they threw in the towel – and got into bed.

            “Not as weird as you being in the top bunk.”

            “Oh haha…”  There’s a pause, then Rin’s pillow falls down, missing his head by a good ten centimeters.  He ends up throwing it back up there, just because he knows Rin only has the one.

            “What do you mean?”

            There’s a creak from above, but Rin’s head doesn’t appear.  “Not really sure.  There’s more freedom but not really, you know?”

            Sousuke chuckles.  “You’re not making any sense.”

            A sigh sounds this time.  “Yeah.  I’m just tired.”  Another creak.  “Wake me up in time for practice, alright?”

            “Of course.”  There’s still a week and a half left before he can even get in the water at all, but he knows he’s going to wind up at every practice anyway.  He’s not sure what’s worse: knowing that practice is happening but not attending, or going to practice and having to watch.

            Sousuke drifts off thinking about swimming, his mind’s eye transforming the faceless swimmers into ones as beautiful as Nanase.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugh, I'm not dead I swear. This year has been a slew of shit flung at me one after another, and I've only now had the chance to write since I last posted in August or whatever. I'll put the rest of the notes at the bottom cause spoilers or something.

            Rin’s schedule picks up, morning practices and drylands making it impossible for Makoto to see him the rest of the week.  He doesn’t have a reason to miss the redhead, since they text near constantly, but that doesn’t stop him from wishing they were together all the time.  Makoto is at least a good enough student to turn his phone silent and try to ignore it during lectures, but in between classes he barely pays attention to where he’s going or where he is, his nose is so buried in his phone.

            Even though they’re in the same city, he calls Rin every day just after dinner.  Well, just after the swimmer’s dinner.  Being an athlete, Rin’s schedule is a lot more defined than his own.

            But even with that, the ache is still there.  He misses Rin; they’d only had a short time, but he’s already gotten used to waking up next to him.  So Makoto doesn’t even think twice about it.  Saturday morning, far earlier than he should be awake on a weekend, he takes the subway over to Rin’s school.  A quick stop for coffee, and he’s in front of the natatorium.

            There’s a tug when he sees the team practicing together.  The rhythm of their strokes, the back and forth…but no, he’d never considered it before and now is not the time for second guessing.  He’d already made his decision.

            Makoto waits outside, watching and holding the two still steaming cups of coffee, until the coach blows his whistle, signaling the end of practice.  Some of the swimmers turn and do a few extra cool down laps, but others are getting out and that’s enough for Makoto.  He pushes the door open and steps inside, the smell of chlorine overwhelming.

            Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Sousuke hovering near the coach, deep in conversation about something.  That’s not who he’s looking for.  A shock of red hair emerges from the water and heads over to the bleachers.  Smiling, Makoto follows him.

            He waits until he’s just behind Rin to let him know he’s here.  “Surprise.”

            The swimmer jumps and spins around.  Makoto’s lucky he jumped back in time or the drinks would be all over his front.

            “Makoto!”

            His smile widens.  “I thought I’d stop by and see if you have plans.”

            Rin gets that look on his face he has sometimes; the one usually reserved for when Haru gives in to one of the competitions that’s not swimming.  “Of course not!  Let me shower, though, ok?”

            He nods.  Rin flashes him a grin and scoops his bag up from the bleachers, disappearing into the locker room.  Makoto watches him go; somehow he’s managed to become more defined even than last year.  It’s amazing.

            A drop of water falls off his hair onto his shoulders.  Makoto watches, mouth dry, as it slips down the muscles of Rin’s back.  Slowly, intoxicating, it approaches his lower back, dropping to the cleft there and –

            Someone clears his throat and Makoto nearly jumps out of his skin.

            “Makoto.”

            He turns to face Sousuke, ears pink, but the other man doesn’t say anything to indicate he had just watched Makoto stare after Rin like a starving man at a piece of meat.

            “Sousuke, how’s your shoulder?”

            The swimmer’s face hardens.  Still a sore topic then.  “One more week until I can swim.”

            That’s sooner than he thought.  Makoto opens his mouth to congratulate him but Sousuke stops him before he can.  “Is Nanase coming over then?”

            “Ah, I’m not sure.  I don’t think he’s awake yet.”

            Sousuke grunts at that.  “Tell him to bring his homework this time,” is all he says about it before following Rin into the locker room.  Makoto frowns after him, confused, but tries not to think too deeply about it.

            He waits by the bleachers, watching the swimmers still practicing.  The coach is speaking to someone else now, going over notes from practice, and for a moment Makoto allows the nostalgia to take over.  He’d only been part of a large team like this for a short time, back before Rin and Haru had gotten in that fight.  He missed that in high school, even with Rei and Nagisa and Haru and Gou.  They were the best he could’ve hoped for but they had no coach, no teammates aside from each other.  He hopes Rei and Nagisa have gathered a team around them large enough to form more than one relay at least.  With how well they’d done the year before they should have an easier time convincing people to join, though they’ll need to hire a real coach eventually.

            A bag drops to the ground in front of him, its owner pulling his hair back in a ponytail.  Rin has the tie between his teeth until he gets his hair right, taking it out from between them to secure the strands.  “What’re you thinking about?”

            Makoto can’t take his eyes off Rin’s mouth.  He swallows, earlier thoughts forgotten.  “Um…”

            “Is one of those coffees for me?”  Rin doesn’t seem to have noticed Makoto’s sudden speechlessness.  He takes one of the cups from Makoto’s hand sipping at it, and Makoto forces his eyes away from the redhead’s Adam’s apple as it bobs in a swallow.  “Tell me you have breakfast in your pocket too.”

            Makoto smiles, leaning down to grab Rin’s bag.  “No.  I wasn’t sure if you’d eaten.  We can go out though.”

            “Yes.  I need to drop this off in my room and grab my books.  Sousuke told me I need to at least _try_ to study if I’m going to stay over.”  He says all this already leading the way to his dorm.  Makoto follows, carrying Rin's bag and trying to not stare at his hips _too_ much.  Rin pauses, and Makoto stops just before walking into him.  “I am staying the night right?”

            There’s a pitch to his words, the tone Rin reserves when he’s unsure.  Makoto can’t exactly blame him for it; they started off rough the year prior after all.  He can’t say he’s inspired the most confidence from Rin in the past.  “Of course you are if you want to.”

            “Good.”  Rin turns to Makoto, slipping his bag off the brunet’s shoulder and passing him the half-finished cup of coffee instead.  “Wait out here.  I’ll be fast.”  He disappears into the dorm, leaving Makoto outside to enjoy the view.  He finally sips at his own coffee.  There aren’t many people out and about this early on a Saturday.  He spots what looks like the baseball team based on their uniforms, running in a pack past the buildings.  A group of guys in volleyball team shirts pass him to head into the same dorm Rin disappeared into, sweaty as if they just finished their own practice.

            Rin appears after a little bit, different duffle over his shoulder.  “Ok, I’m ready now.”  He breathes, making Makoto wonder if he ran all the way back down here.

            “You have your books for studying?”  He laughs at the redhead’s eye roll.

            “Yes, geez.  You and Sousuke, I swear…”

            Makoto laughs again, walking with Rin to the train station.

\---

            They end up dropping off Rin’s bag at the apartment before going out to breakfast.  They spend some time wandering around the stores after too, exploring what little of the city they can reach on foot from here while still finding their way back.  Makoto’s not surprised to learn that Rin has an excellent sense of direction, something he no doubt acquired wandering around a foreign country by himself in his childhood.

            There’s something nice, domestic and simple, to this date.  They get more coffee so they have something in their hands while they wander around, but the ‘shopping’ they do is limited to window gazing.  They’re still students after all, and even though they’re not in Ginza this is still beyond their price range.

            Makoto’s stomach growls again around lunch time and they go for something simple and cheap before deciding they’ve spent enough time wandering around and should probably, as Rin air quotes ‘at least _try_ to study’.

            When they get back to the apartment, the easel is out and the smell of mackerel fills the air.  Rin takes off his shoes this time before bounding in.  “Haru!”  A spike of…something hits him in the chest as his boyfriend runs off to the kitchen.  He swallows it down and follows Rin in.  The redhead is hanging over Haru’s shoulder, as he normally does, and the spike hits him again harder.  He clears his throat, and Haru shrugs Rin off, not even looking towards Makoto.

            “Mackerel again?”  Rin asks, moving to lean back against the counter.  Makoto heads towards him, placing his hand on his boyfriend’s hip as he opens the cabinet next to Rin’s head and grabs two glasses for water.

            Haru’s head darts to the side for a moment, eyes landing on Makoto’s hand, before returning to what he’s doing.  “Yes.  I like mackerel.”

            “If you’re painting out here, we can study in my room.”  Makoto suggests, calmer now that Rin’s in his grasp.  The redhead gives him a look that clearly says _you know we’re not going to study if we’re in your room_ , and Makoto laughs at the silent comment.  He backs away and fills the glasses, returning to hand one to his boyfriend.

            “I’m heading to the pool after I eat.”  Haru tells him, stiff.  Makoto frowns.  He knows that tone, that stance; something’s wrong.  He glances at Rin; the redhead’s frowning at Haru too.  He knows something Makoto doesn’t.

            The feeling that hits him this time is different.  Rin, who has always had some kind of complicated feelings towards Haru Makoto will never understand, has somehow managed to keep up with him.  He knows something Makoto doesn’t know about Haru and…this is only the second time it’s happened, but the brunet suddenly feels _awful_.  He’s Haru’s best friend, but he’s been so wrapped in this new relationship he can’t tell _what_ is making Haru so stiff.  But Rin knows; Rin knows because he cares.

            They sit in the living room with Haru while he eats.  Makoto sits next to Rin the entire time, leaning against him and drinking his water.  At first Rin tries to make conversation with Haru, but the former swimmer is clearly not interested, eating his food and occasionally shooting glares at Rin until the redhead gives up and continues the conversation from earlier in the day with Makoto about his classes.

            Sure enough, after the meal Haru gets up and washes the dishes then disappears into his room, emerging with a duffle.

            “Are you staying the night there?”  Makoto asks, trying to patch this crack in their relationship.  He’d thought they’d fixed it before, but he thinks now that they glossed over it instead, never really discussing what had gone wrong in the first place.  Never forgiven, never forgotten.

            Haru nods, hitching the bag higher.  “Take your homework this time?  Sousuke wanted me to tell you.”

            A frown crosses Haru’s face, but Makoto…can’t read it.  “I have it.”  He responds, tone unreadable and slips out the door.

            “That was weird,” Rin remarks, standing up and stretching.  “Do you think he realizes he left his painting out?”

            Makoto hadn’t noticed that.  His thoughts are so focused on _Rin_ all the time he has a hard time thinking of anything else, like his best friend or his surroundings.  Rin himself leans into Makoto’s space, waving a hand across his eyes.  “Makoto?  You still with me?”

            “Join me on the couch…”  He says instead.

            Rin frowns at him, confused – he can read _that_ but not Haru anymore? – but goes to the couch and sits, patting the cushion until Makoto joins him.

            It’s silent, Makoto stares at Haru’s painting, lost in thought.  It’s so blue, like the ocean except there’s no horizon.  It’s more like they’re underwater instead.

            “This is the same painting as last time.”  Rin remarks, breaking the silence.  “I think he keeps adding paint on top of the layers.”

            Sure enough, it _does_ look rather thick.  Trust Rin to notice that but not _him_ …

            “You got weird the minute we saw Haru in the kitchen.  Want to tell me what’s going on?”

            “Am I a bad friend?”  It slips out, the way words tend to around Rin.  It’s how he got into this all in the first place, losing control around Rin.  If he hadn’t, would Rin have ended up with Haru?  Sousuke maybe?  Never giving Makoto a second glance?

            Rin pokes him in the forehead.  “You’re thinking too much.”

            He blinks up to see his boyfriend, now straddling him, framed by Haru’s impossibly blue painting.  “I don’t know Haru as well anymore.”

            “That happens, Makoto,” Rin comforts gently.  “If you want to know him better again, spend more time with him.”

            But that would mean less time with Rin.  He squeezes the redhead’s thighs, gripping them so Rin won’t back away.  “I want to spend time with you.”

            Rin smiles, beautiful.  “It’s called the honeymoon period Makoto.  Eventually it’ll be less intense.”

            “How do you know that?”

            Rin flushes, looking to the side.  “I, uh, came across some articles…”

            Oh.  Makoto flushes too, happy to think that Rin was feeling the same, enough to look up some advice.  But that’s not what he was asking.  “I mean how do you know it’ll be less intense?”

            If possible, Rin turns redder.  “Oh…I thought…nevermind.”  He takes a breath.  “Because it can’t always be this intense or I think I’ll die.”

            That was…

            Makoto groans, pulling on Rin’s thighs until they’re chest to chest.  “You can’t say things like that,” he decides.

            He pulls Rin in for a kiss, but the redhead has a smirk, playful on his lips and slips back out of his grasp.  He reaches for him, but Rin is too fast, standing, still in front of the blue background.  His hand drops, and Makoto sees it happen a second before it does.

            “Oh, shit.”  Rin recoils, having slipped his fingers into Haru’s abandoned bottle of paint.  Makoto bursts out laughing.

            “Shut up!”  Rin attacks him, finger exposed, and Makoto feigns wanting to get away, but he internally rejoices when he feels the wet tracing across his neck.  He wraps his arms around Rin, pulling him back down to the couch.

            Rin’s laughing too, cradling the back of Makoto’s neck, balanced on one leg next to him on the couch.  The brunet’s eyes go soft looking at him like this.  He doesn’t regret it.  He’ll work to fix things with Haru, but he doesn’t regret ending up with Rin like this, coated in blue on his couch.

            He must’ve been silent too long, because Rin opens his eyes, tilting his head at Makoto.  “What are you thinking about now?”  He asks, softer than before.

            “I always thought it would be you and Haru, in the end.”  Makoto admits.

            Rin goes silent at that, face thoughtful.  It’s a full moment before he speaks, the silence echoing his words through the apartment, Haru’s painting the only witness.  “I did too.”

            Makoto’s breath catches.

            “To be honest, I fell in love with him the moment I first saw him swim.”  His voice is barely louder than a whisper, but Makoto hangs on his every syllable, dreading the words but needing to hear them just the same.  “It was his swimming, of course, but I wanted to get to know him better too.  I told you it was coincidence when I ended up in the same class and swim team, but it wasn’t really…I wanted to be close to him.”

            “What happened?”

            Rin lets out a snort, some internal joke Makoto will never be privileged to.  “A lot of things and nothing at all.  I think it was really during the relay, your first with Rei, that it clicked for me.  That we weren’t ever going to be together, not as anything more than friends.”

            He thinks Rin’s done, that there’s nothing else, but he speaks up again.  “I don’t know if he told you, but we had a few sleepovers after our relay, like the old days.  It was so…normal.  We argued about food and where to sleep, and he forced me to wear this stupid shirt to sleep in –“

            Makoto can’t hear any more.  Maybe it’s rude, but he grabs Rin by the shirt and pulls him in for a kiss.  He’s long ago accepted that his self-control ceases to exist when he’s around Rin.  The redhead doesn’t fight it, doesn’t try to run away.  On the contrary, he pulls Makoto in closer.

            There’s a small scuffle as they fight to find a comfortable position on the couch, but eventually Rin’s straddling him, fingers in his hair as Makoto bites his way across his collarbone.  He doesn’t want to think about before; to think that if the sleepovers had gone another way he’d be sitting here alone while Rin and Haru fly halfway around the world.  The fierce need to mark the swimmer overwhelms him.

            Before he can stop himself he’s groping past Rin, fingers dipping into the still open blue Haru had abandoned.  Rin’s shirt’s pulled off impatiently, and with a hand to his chest, Makoto pushes him back, tracing lines on his exposed hip bone.

            Rin groans, a sound that shoots straight to Makoto’s groin.  They’re not going to make it to the bedroom.  Rin’s clawing at his shirt, even as Makoto goes for his pants.  They end up vertical somehow, sheer willpower driving them away from the couch, Haru’s art work, and down the hallway.

            He continues painting Rin’s skin with his fingers.  The blue is drying with every scrape, leaving less and less residue each time, so he compensates with his lips and tongue.  Rin shoves him against the wall outside the bathroom, peeling off Makoto’s pants at a slow pace that has the brunet growling.  Rin tries to be coy, dancing just out of his reach, but Makoto manages to grab him, press him against the door to his room.

            The blue has dried on his fingers where he has them pressed against Rin’s wrist, the redhead’s pulse pounding erratically against them.  His other hand’s dipped lower already.  He coats it in the precum dripping between them, it doesn’t matter whose, before letting it fall behind Rin.

            The redhead breaths out a whine when Makoto presses one finger inside.  He pauses then; they hadn’t talked about this before, hadn’t gone this far, but Rin isn’t telling him to stop.  On the contrary, he lets out another noise, this time clear disapproval that Makoto had stopped.

            He keeps it to one finger, blue hand eventually falling to the space between them, working them together as Rin writhes against the door.  He’s strong now, stronger than Makoto most likely, but he doesn’t try and get out of it.  He pushes against Makoto until Makoto pushes back, and like that, pressed against the door with a finger inside and hand crushed between their bodies, Rin comes with a cry that has Makoto seeing white.  He follows not long after, the contractions of Rin around his finger serving motivation.  Rin’s semen works well as lube until Makoto reaches that point, and when he finishes off he can’t tell whose mess is whose.

            His legs are like jello, and he sags against Rin, drawing a grunt from the swimmer.

            “Damn Makoto…where did that come from?”

            He doesn’t have words to explain it, none he wants to utter out loud at least, so he presses a kiss to Rin’s jaw.  “I wanted to.”

            The redhead chuckles, pushing him off.  He’s reluctant to let go, stubbornly staying against Rin, not giving him any leeway.

            “Makoto, we need to clean up.”

            It’s a logical argument.  He pulls his finger out finally, pleased with the half sigh from Rin at the motion, and steps back.

            Rin’s chest is coated with blue streaks, his stomach sprayed with white.  But moreover, his hair and neck are a mess.  It’s going to take the rest of the weekend for the marks Makoto left to fade.

            “You look debauched.”  Rin tells him, reaching up to pat his hair.

            Makoto chuckles.  “You should see yourself, then.”

            They make their way back to the bathroom, picking up spare pieces of clothing as they go.  Rin sucks in a breath when he sees himself in the mirror, forcing a wince out of Makoto.  He’d gone too far.

            “You wrote your name?”  The redhead sounds nothing but amused, and Makoto’s eyes drift down to the hipbones he’d forgotten about earlier.  The characters had been smeared from their actions, coated in white, but the words were still clear.  _Tachibana Makoto_.  He’d wanted to mark Rin.

            A flush fights its way up the back of his neck, taking over his cheeks and ears.  “I…uh…”

            “Don’t you dare apologize for this.”

            His eyes snap up, meeting Rin’s.  There’s a determination in them along with some emotion he doesn’t understand, and he nods.  “I’m not sorry.”  He isn’t.  He’s not sure what he was going to say before, but an apology would’ve been empty, and he doesn’t give Rin empty words.

            “I don’t want to wash it off,” Rin announces, admiring the paint in the mirror.  “Yours just looks like a collar.”

            Makoto touches his neck, absently.  He’d forgotten Rin had painted him first.  “Wait here.  Don’t shower yet.”

            He catches the flash of confusion on Rin’s face before he disappears.  He finds his phone on the table, abandoned after the meal and brings it in.  Rin looks at him, down at his hand, then back at him, red again.

            Makoto holds it up.  “You can say no.”

            “No.”  Rin clears his throat, still red but less so.  “No I want to.  But you have to also.”

            He takes a few pictures like that.  With Rin posing for him, then sneakily with Rin looking into the mirror when he thought he was done.  They take a selfie in the mirror too, naked like that, still a mess of cum and paint.  Makoto saves all the pictures to a special folder and swears never to delete them and never to show anyone else while Rin starts the shower.

            “I can’t believe you took naked pictures of me with your _name_ tattooed on my skin,” Rin tells him, climbing in the shower.

            Makoto follows him in, wondering what exactly happened to him to make him so shameless.  _I can’t believe I haven’t told you I love you yet_.  He opens his mouth to say it, but for the first time, he chokes on his words in front of Rin.  Rin doesn’t notice, back turned to him as he scrubs the mess off his stomach.  The floor of the shower turns blue, paint mixing with the water as his name disappears from Rin’s stomach.

            He wraps his arms around his boyfriend instead, tucking his chin into Rin’s shoulder.  Sometimes Rin overwhelms him without meaning to.  Makoto takes a deep breath, calming himself down, and places a kiss to Rin’s shoulder.

            “Let’s get clean.  We should at least _try_ to study.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter vomited itself at me one day when I was listening to the RinHaru audio drama and I thought "oh...I know exactly what to do." Jealous!Makoto gives me life. Also, as you might've noticed, I am trying to speed through the day to day activities so we can get to the stuff you're really here for, which is (I assume???) MakoRin, the SouHaru development, and fixing Haru so he feels better. Also because we will eventually, I swear, get to that party that's been alluded to in the Haikyuu! portions of this universe. I think that's all I have to say about this chapter. Yup. I love you guys, sorry I was gone so long x_x


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